


trying to tell a stranger about rock n roll

by theamazingpeterparker



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Existential Crisis, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gender or Sex Swap, Girl Direction, Road Trips, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, summer americana bullshit p much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4308636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theamazingpeterparker/pseuds/theamazingpeterparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The high point of the trip is a yellow labrador in the van that passes them entering New Mexico, wearing an american flag as a cape and bright pink sunglasses. They leave a pair of Niall’s sneakers tied and tangled around telephone lines somewhere near Albuquerque.</i>
</p><p> Niall invites her waitress to join her on a roadtrip down Route 66.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trying to tell a stranger about rock n roll

**Author's Note:**

> why did i write this ?? how did i write this ? who allowed this to happen ?  
> [here is a little playlist](http://8tracks.com/arrowx2013/apple-pie-meteor-craters) for this fic, if ur curious.  
> plus all the usual shoutouts to clare and google maps and my 2AM writing habits, apologies for any inaccuracies.  
> title's from Do You Believe In Magic? by The Lovin' Spoonful.

:::

 _"We are all just walking each other home."  
-_ Ram Dass

:::

Niall wastes her last twenty dollar bill on a cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie that tastes like shit. She didn’t exactly have her hopes up about this particular diner, but knowing now that she could have spent that on more packaged, gas station snacks instead of leaving it up to chance over a slice of diner pie, she’s a little disheartened. All of her money has gone to stocking up for this trip, sunblock and socks and underwear and a pocketknife because who knows. Was hoping that this last twenty could go to a solid meal before she sets off into the Great Unknown but instead she’s left with a disappointing piece of pie at some diner just west of the highway entrance. She’s got her map spread out over the whole table, ring from her coffee mug circling around Denver. Makes a mental list of last things to do before she leaves, find an ATM, fill up on gas. There’s a jukebox at the front door, the usual tinkling of silverware and dishes clinking around her, all the sounds of a regular diner, something that’s familiar across every state, except.

Except there’s yelling coming from the kitchen doors, something hotter and louder than the usual shouting of a diner. Her waitress storms out a few minutes later, disappears up to the front lobby. Niall does her best to ignore it, turns back to the red-outline of Route 66 on her map and the melted innards of her pie slice. Something about this place makes her itch but she can’t tell if it’s her eagerness to leave or the desolation of the diner, listless waitstaff and tense shouts still coming from the kitchen. She tries to shake the feeling that she’s stuck in some kind of purgatory, turns back to her map.

“It’s probably quicker to take 57 out,” a voice says and Niall glances up from where her thumb is placed on Oklahoma City. It’s her waitress, whose scratched nametag says _Zayn_. She’s leaning on the back of the Niall’s booth, nodding to her map as she dries her hands on her apron. “If you’re going south, I mean.”

Niall feels her mouth tick up into a smile, hides it around the rim of her coffee mug as she takes a sip. “Thanks.”

Zayn just shrugs, gestures to Niall’s plates. “You good? Check, or anything?”

Niall nods and waves a hand, pushes her half-eaten pie and mug forward and Zayn scoops them up. “Sorry that the pie was shit,” she breathes as she gathers Niall’s plates, so quietly that Niall almost doesn’t hear it, “cook can only make burgers and beans, doesn’t think that anything else on the menu is worth his time.”

Niall’s still smiling down at her map, doesn’t know how to respond other than a breathy laugh, “thanks.”

Zayn smiles warmly at her, leaves her with the check and disappears back into the kitchen. The yelling starts again almost immediately and this time Niall hears it, _you’re fucking useless, Malik, you know that?_

Niall bristles, has half a mind to go into the kitchen herself but something keeps her rooted to her seat. The check is for seven dollars and Niall leaves her last $20 bill on it, starts folding up her map when Zayn comes back out, red-faced and trying to compose a smile. It looks more like a grimace, mutters out, “I’ll be right back with your change.”

“Nah,” Niall says, waves a hand. “That’s it.”

Zayn raises her eyebrows at the bill, a thirteen dollar tip _is_ a bit much over a shitty coffee and piece of pie but something’s tugging at Niall’s heartstrings. She doesn’t want to see Zayn go back into the kitchen as much as Zayn probably doesn’t want to go back into the kitchen. They hesitate, Zayn lingering now that she doesn’t owe Niall change and Niall looking out the tall diner windows at her car, parked in the last corner spot. There’s some kind of plea building in Niall’s throat, getting stronger with each step that Zayn takes back towards the front. Wants to call after her, _wait, come with me, I’ll take you wherever it is you need to go as long as it’s far away from here._ And then Zayn rounds the corner out of sight and Niall rubs her face. She can’t fold her map right again, gets it close enough to cram it into her back pocket along with her phone and wallet.

She’s outside, stalling to leave, toothpick between her teeth as she looks for the closest ATM on her phone. Has no idea how much money this is going to take. And then the side door of the diner opens and Zayn sulks out, cigarette already between her lips muttering curse words. She sees Niall as she’s lighting her cigarette, pauses halfway as if she’s reconsidering the flame but it’s too late anyway, the cherry already smoking.

“I’m starting Route 66,” Niall blurts before she can help herself, desperate to say anything to take the look of unease off the girl’s face. “It starts by 55, and then I get onto 44 around St. Louis.”

Zayn shrugs and nods, exhaling smoke all in one fluid motion. Niall’s leaning against the opposite side of her car, arms splayed across the roof and she looks down into her backseat. A mess of sweatshirts and backpacks, empty soda bottles. It’s a stark contrast to the cornfields across the road from the diner, makes her feel claustrophobic, like she doesn’t want to go through with this.

“You could come with me,” Niall says after Zayn’s exhaled two more times, leaning against the wall of the building. Zayn picks her head up from where she’s been dragging her boot through the dirt, settles Niall with a steady look and Niall starts rambling. “I mean, it’s just me. And no offense but this diner is fucking miserable, I don’t know how you haven’t gone out of your mind in there, and nobody wants to go on a roadtrip by themselves, you know, maybe we’d be helping each other out, I don’t--”

“Yeah,” Zayn’s laughing, grinding her cigarette out with her heel. Shakes her head like she can’t believe she’s doing this, “Yeah, I’ll come with you. Shit. You serious?”

Niall’s grinning now, too, slides her sunglasses down from her head and onto her face, arms raised in a shrug. “Yeah.”

Zayn’s still shaking her head, tugs her hair up into a bun and grins, now, fucking brightest thing Niall’s seen in weeks. “Okay. Give me, like, two minutes.”

Niall shrugs, ducks into the drivers seat and starts the car, cranking the A/C. She watches Zayn through the windshield, the other girl disappearing back inside and then Niall can see her through the diner windows, bursts out of the kitchen doors with her apron clasped in one hand. Some other man coming out after her yelling but Zayn’s grinning, throws her apron over the cashier counter and then comes out the front door of the diner, jogging to Niall’s car and peers through the open passengers’ window. Niall grins. “Did you just quit?”

“I owe it all to you,” Zayn replies without missing a beat, “you got room for my bike in the trunk?”

Zayn’s wrestled her bike into the trunk and flops into the passenger’s seat minutes later, completely unperturbed by the wrappers and clothes littering the front and back seats. “Route 66, then?” Niall nods, hands her the badly folded map. “I’m Niall, by the way,” she grins, and Zayn just laughs. The whole staff watches them leave through the windows of the diner.

:::

Zayn’s quiet until they hit the highway. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, just feels like they’re readjusting, learning how to acclimate to the other’s presence. Niall’s got the radio low but Zayn’s tapping her fist against the car through the open window, a low, soft hum coming from her when the chorus comes on. “Fuckin’ hate this song,” she finally admits with a shy laugh and Niall lets out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

“Thank _god_ ,” she says, waves a hand and Zayn understands, reaching for the dial to find a station that isn’t country or folk. It’s just static for a while but Zayn’s still humming until she lands on a fuzzy classic rock station, makes a satisfied noise.

“Can I ask why you’re doing Route 66?” Zayn pipes up a while later, once Niall’s gotten them onto 55 and there’s nothing but a long, flat stretch of road and two tractor trailers ahead of them.

Niall lifts a shoulder in a shrug, hasn’t really given this question much thought. “My dad and I always talked about doing it,” she replies as she maneuvers the car around one of the trucks, “this was my first summer out of school and I just got sick of the same old cornfields, y’know?” she frowns to herself, knows that it probably sounds stupid. “I just wanted to do it. I’ve never seen the ocean,” she tacks on. It feels like a valid reason in her chest, but saying it outloud sounds. Underwhelming.

She can feel Zayn’s eyes on her, glances over with a quick, self-deprecating smirk. “It’s stupid, I know.”

Zayn’s brow furrows for a moment before she puts her sunglasses on, tilting her head back and tapping her rings along on the side of the car again. “‘S not stupid.”

:::

Niall’s mighty little Honda Civic gets them through to St. Louis, stopping just outside the city for gas and money and snacks. “Last chance,” Niall grins toothily at Zayn over the roof of the car as she unscrews her gas cap, “You could probably hitchhike back north and be home by dark.”

Zayn scoffs and waves a hand. “You’re the nicest kidnapper ever, Niall.”

“You came willingly,” Niall quips back, “at least, that’s what I’ll tell the cops.”

Zayn rolls her eyes as she pushes her sunglasses up on her head. “You want anything?” she asks, gesturing to the rest stop.

“Couple Sprites? Bag of Doritos. There’s a $10 in the cupholder--” Niall says but Zayn’s already saluted her, marching off into the little building.

Zayn comes back with two Sprites and two Vanilla Cokes, a bag of Doritos and two boxes of powdered doughnuts. Niall’s grinning as she gets back into the passengers side, hands Niall’s snacks over and waves a hand when Niall tries giving her the $10.

“Nope,” is all she says, voice getting gradually louder each time Niall tries to give her the bill until they’re both yelling, Niall shouting _take the money!_ and Zayn insisting _No! You tipped me $13!_ until the ten eventually gets dropped onto the floor by Zayn’s feet and she stuffs it back in the cup holder and sticks her tongue out.

Zayn’s slouched down in her seat an hour into Missouri and Niall thinks she’s asleep, sunglasses pulled down over her face, head tilted down at her phone in her lap. Niall gently moves to tuck the ten dollar bill between Zayn’s leg and the seat but the girl lashes a hand out and Niall yelps, almost swerves into the other lane. “ _No_ ,” Zayn hisses and Niall can feel her glare through her sunglasses, and then Zayn shows her her phone. “Was looking up Route 66 attractions.” she wrinkles her nose. “You _were_ planning on seeing some of this shit, right? You weren’t just going to drive straight through to LA?”

Niall runs her hands over her steering wheel. She hadn’t really... _thought_ about it. Six hours ago she was going to do this alone, really only had very short a list of big things to see: _Grand Canyon, Pacific Ocean_. But Zayn’s reading off some website, now, grinning wide, “Jesse James Wax Museum, Stanton Missouri, Wild West outlaw Jesse James was _murdered in his home_ in 1882...some folks believe that Jesses’ “death” was a hoax, and that he lived under a fake name for years…” Niall can’t tell if Zayn is serious or not, she’s grinning but there’s something real in her voice as she continues scrolling through the page, “Vaccuum cleaner museum, in St. James, and _then_ a short drive into Fanning we could see the world’s largest rocking chair…” but she keeps reading and Niall’s laughing by the time they get to Texas’s attractions. Zayn’s taking notes of where she wants to go and Niall asks, “Grand Canyon?” hesitantly, glances over to see Zayn light up, “Oh, yeah! How did I forget that one?”

It would have taken thirty hours to LA if Niall had driven straight through alone, but suddenly she feels like thirty hours with Zayn wouldn’t be enough.

:::

They get to the Jesse James museum an hour before it’s scheduled for closing, the attendant at the desk smiles warmly at them and hands them tickets and brochures in exchange for their cash, Zayn stuffing a few extra bills in the donation jar. It doesn’t take long to go through the whole museum but Niall leaves with a new batch of photos in her phone regardless, Zayn kissing Jesse Jame’s figure and Niall brandishing a fake pistol, feels like she learns more about Zayn goofing off in a wax museum than she did in the first five hours driving with her.

:::

They pick a motel just outside of St. Louis, split the price between the two of them for one room. Zayn’s good at establishing her own space and not invading the space of others, takes the bed closest to the bathroom and sets her backpack against the wall. They work in quiet synchronization as they get ready for bed, Niall asking if it’s alright if she sets an alarm for the next morning and Zayn nodding, asking if it’s okay if she leaves the TV on as white noise until she falls asleep. It’s easier than Niall ever could have expected, Niall takes a quick shower and brushes her teeth first and leaves the door open for Zayn. All the channels at this hour are news stations or game shows, Niall gets wrapped up in Jeopardy! when the bathroom door clicks open.

“Uh,” Zayn asks, hair wrapped up in a towel as she pokes her head out. “I don’t really have any, like. Pajamas.”

“Oh! Oh. Um. Hang on,” Niall says, reaches over the edge of her bed for her suitcase and grabs a shirt and pair of boxers, tosses them to Zayn who gives her a grateful grin and disappears back to the bathroom again.

Niall turns off her light and Zayn stays up a little while longer. There’s people walking up and down the corridor all night and the TV manages to drown most of the footsteps and voices out. She falls asleep thankful that there’s someone else here with her.

They’re mellow the next morning, Zayn dumps the shampoo and soap bars in her bag while Niall goes down the hall to raid the vending machines. No rush to get on the road, Niall leaves a pile of her own clothes on Zayn’s bed as she goes to load the car and Zayn seems to accept them gratefully, wearing one of Niall’s Blackhawks shirts when she comes out of the room with the keys and her bag. Zayn seems more at ease today, the further they get from Illinois the more she’s smiling, talking.

“Can I smoke in the car?” Zayn asks as Niall shuts the trunk, edging her pack of Marlboros out of her pocket, looks like she’s already expecting a _no_ as an answer as she moves to light one of the smokes. Niall just shrugs, gets into the driver’s seat. “If you keep the windows open, sure.”

Zayn raises her eyebrows but doesn’t question it, gets it and immediately rolls down her window, exhales outside as Niall backs them out of the parking lot. “My parents,” Niall starts, didn’t offer up an explanation as to why her car is a goddamn mess but now seems like good a time as any, “they bought me a new car for graduation.” The only indication that Zayn’s listening is that she’s turned the radio down, glances over when Niall continues, “I’ve driven this since high school, right, and they decided after college if I’m going to go off to the “big city,” I deserve a respectable car.” Niall shakes her head a bit, hooks finger quotes around her parents words. “They think the big city is, like, Springfield. Anyway. So they got me a new car for my present, it’s waiting for me at home and they want to sell this one, even though it’s not worth shit. No offense,” she tacks on, rubbing her palms on the steering wheel.

Zayn hums, puts her feet up on the dash and kicks away one of the Jesse James museum brochures. “A last journey together, then?” she supplies, flicks her cigarette butt out the window. Her mouth hitches up into a smile and so does Niall’s, just replies a quiet, “yeah.” and then they’re quiet, for a while.

“You a romantic?” Zayn asks a few miles later. Niall replies _yeah_ again and Zayn makes another noise, runs a hand through her wind-swept hair and rolls the window up. “Thought so.”

:::

There’s a small, roadside market that Zayn insists they stop at, fill up as many bags as they can with peaches, raspberries, cherries, nectarines. It’s all they eat for two days afterwards, leaving a trail of cherry pits across the state.

:::

A storm chases them through Missouri into Oklahoma, and Niall makes Zayn pull over. Zayn’s yelling out the windows over the distant thunder and Niall’s getting absolutely soaked trying to take photos of the sky, rain coming down in sheets but Niall’s laughing, gets about four pictures that aren’t blurry before her wet fingers and fat raindrops smudge her phone’s camera lense.

:::

Niall’s been grumbling _Fuck Oklahoma_ for half an hour, they’ve eaten through all their snacks but they’re an hour away from the state border into Texas. It hits Niall fast and hard, feels fucking run down for the first time in the trip. Zayn drives for a while, Niall hunched in the passengers seat under a blanket playing her Gameboy just so she won’t have to look at any more fucking cornfields. They haven’t had a real meal in three days and Niall misses her bed. That night is a sleazy motel room with a painting of a sailboat even though they’re a thousand miles from the ocean and six hundred from home. What the hell is she doing here.

She makes Zayn get up and they check out at six the next morning, Niall restless in a way that makes her cranky when Zayn tries talking her out of it, wants to stay and sleep a few more hours and get breakfast.

“You can sleep in the car,” Niall snaps as she stuffs her clothes in her suitcase, snatches up the roomkeys from the side table.

“Niall. You fuckin’ serious?” Zayn asks, sitting up with the duvet still bunched around her shoulders. “What’s the rush?”

She doesn’t know how to explain it. _I’ve quit everything I’ve ever started and I want to finish this._ Waves this little temper tantrum off as the three day hump to get over, frustration over the same old landscape, they’ve driven eight hundred miles and they don’t feel any closer to the Pacific. Feels so restless it makes her push eighty five miles per hour once they’re back on the road, Zayn doesn’t say anything but Niall feels her watching her, says she’s fine, whatever. Just need to get the fuck out of the midwest.

:::

They split a milkshake and fries at Lucille’s in Weatherford for dinner. Zayn’s drawn all over their placemats, the ‘56 Thunderbird they passed on the road an hour back, cactuses, a lifeguard stand. The neon sign outside the Jesse James museum. Niall watches her hands move across the paper, her head eventually drooping onto Zayn’s shoulder. Stopped being angry at the midwest a few hours ago and now she’s just tired.

She falls asleep on Zayn’s shoulder and Zayn lets her sleep for a while, finishes off the fries and shake and leaves a good tip for their waitress. She leaves the placemat, sits for a while brushing her fingertips through the end of Niall’s hair until the waitstaff starts giving them dirty looks, takes that as her cue to leave.

“Ni,” she murmurs, kisses Niall’s temple and the girl stirs, blinks blearily up at her. God, Zayn owes her so much. “Let’s get a hotel, yeah?”

:::

Niall watches Zayn through the mirror, the smooth valley of her back tan and lean, fantail tattoo dark and severe against her skin in the dim room when she sweeps her hair over her shoulder. Niall’s knotted her fingers in her bathing suit top while attempting to tie it while watching Zayn.

“You need help?” Zayn asks as she turns around and it’s the first time Niall’s seen all her tattoos on display, a gun stretching down her hip and a playing card on her side, can fully see the wings and lips on her chest. Niall fumbles her fingers out of her string, nodding dumbly and Zayn smiles, crosses the room and goes around to tie Niall’s top. She ties it with ease, stepping back to grab her towel before heading out the door to the pool. Niall could swear that Zayn’s fingertips lingered on her spine just a second too long.

The pool is freezing but it’s empty this late at night, the only other people there a middle-aged couple who leave when Niall and Zayn come out. Niall shrieks as she cannonballs in but Zayn eases into the water down the steps, submerges much more gracefully than Niall did but surfaces yelling _shit fuck_ , pushing hair out of her face and exclaiming that _I’m gonna freeze my tits off in here, Niall_.

Niall’s too busy cackling, the icy water shocking her awake even though it’s nearly midnight, dives under and grabs hold of Zayn’s ankle, climbing her way up until she’s clinging to Zayn’s back.

Zayn lets Niall on her shoulders and Niall’s able to reach over the side of the pool for the six pack of Corona they bought, grabs two and brings them into the pool. Niall retreats to the hot tub but Zayn lingers in the pool for a while, eventually disappears and swims half the length underwater, surfaces just in front of the hot tub where Niall’s waiting. Her hair looks black in the moonlight, slicked down her back, leans against the wall between the pool and hottub so close to Niall that she can see water clinging to her eyelashes, mascara smudged under each eye.

Zayn pulls herself easily over the wall, cold hand around Niall’s wrist as she dips into the hot water with a gasp. Niall hands her a Corona and Zayn tips it to her in a salute, “cheers.” They let themselves soak in the hot tub until the jets shut off and they drift closer to each other in the water, the courtyard silent except for the water lapping against ceramic, the glow of the pool lights. Niall almost forgets they’re still in Oklahoma.

“What’s this one?” Niall asks an hour later, both of them laying on the cement on their towels, the pleasant side of drunk, the kind of drunk where you haven’t actually drank that much but you’re in the company of friends. She reaches over, pokes a finger against the arabic on Zayn’s collarbone.

“Grandfather’s name,” Zayn replied, eyes closed, mouth quirking up every time Niall prods her.

Niall doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or if that’s just how Zayn is, doesn’t hesitate to answer any of Niall’s questions about her tattoos. She’s been inching closer with each question, side-by-side now and Niall rolls onto her stomach, leaning up on her elbows and running her fingers over the wings on Zayn’s collarbone. Zayn lays very still.

“And these?”

“Hurt the worst,” Zayn exhales, opens her eyes and meets Niall’s. Her mouth twitches. “You have any tattoos?”

“Does it look like I have any tattoos?”

Zayn props herself up on her elbows, lets her eyes slide lazily down Niall’s exposed body. “No.”

Niall lifts her gaze away from Zayn’s mouth back up to her eyes. “How long did this one take?” she asks, pinky running down the tiger on Zayn’s bicep.

“Two hours, maybe,” Zayn murmurs back, eyes drifting shut again. “Wasn’t so bad.”

They both fall asleep on the same bed, the second bed damp from their towels and bathing suits the next morning. They pack up with Niall thinking about the Corona bottlecaps and her last bottle of sunscreen they left behind at that hotel in Elk City, OK.

:::

Niall’s singing _Life is a Highway_ at the top of her voice at 4:30 AM, after Zayn nearly fell asleep at the wheel, the two of them determined to stay awake through the sunrise on the road. Windows open and Texas is surprisingly cold this early, Zayn’s wearing one of Niall’s Cubs hoodies and Niall’s draped Zayn’s beach towel around herself, howling out the window, _life is a hiiiiiiighway, i’mma ride it aaaaall night looooong_ and Zayn went from yelling her disapproval to reluctantly laughing along. Pauses somewhere between the bridge and chorus to shout _fuck_ out into the inky darkness just because she can.

:::

Texas is Zayn wearing a cowboy hat and a bandana around her neck, grinning with a peppermint stick between her teeth from the general store, running down the main drag of an honest-to-God wild west themed town. Looks like a goddamn yankee.

“I don’t want to get a sunburn!” Niall pleads, keeps the hood draped up over her head and Zayn just repeats _I don’t want to get a sunburn_ back to her in a whiny voice, kicks a cloud of dust up and then stills, steps forward, and pushes Niall’s hood off. “You’ve gotten blonder,” she says, smile tugging the edges of her mouth and Niall thinks, for one terrifying moment, that they’re going to kiss. And then Zayn reaches up, tugs at a strand of Niall’s hair and pulls off a tiny burr.

:::

They buy an armful of spraycans on the way out to Cadillac Ranch, Zayn practically vibrating in the seat next to Niall as she eases the car off the asphalt and onto the dirt road, where the rear ends of the Cadillacs are peaking up in the distance. Rambling about how she wanted to go to art school but couldn’t afford it, drew most of her own tattoos, Chicago had a great graffiti scene, trails off as they get closer, can barely wait for the car to stop before she’s climbing out. There’s one car body on the end that’s relatively less painted than the other ones. Zayn heads for it, already shaking her black spray can but Niall lingers a bit, walks down the whole line. Takes more photos of Zayn painting than she does of the whole display.

Zayn sprays an outline of Illinois and an outline of California, red line connecting them and Niall sprays _Fuck Yeah !_ underneath it. Gets a thrill out of it and Zayn’s laughing at her while she does it, Niall trying to think of what else to say, purple spray paint dripping down the can and onto her wrist.

“That song! Do that song,” Zayn laughs, points to an empty patch on the Cadillac’s door and she hums it, eventually picks up on the chorus and Niall barks a laugh, sprays _BORN TO BE WILD_ on the door, their latest roadtrip song through Texas. They spend twenty minutes snapping photos of each other standing in front of their artwork, a selfie where Zayn swoops in and kisses Niall’s cheek at the last second, Niall’s mouth caught half-open in a cheerful shout.

A flat tire seems inevitable on their way out from ranch, Niall’s Civic coughing in protest as they ease their way over the bumps and mud puddles on the dirt road and then a dip so sharp and sudden Niall slams the brakes, can feel the car tilt a bit. “Fuck.”

They hit a pothole so hard their front tire isn’t just flat, but the hubcap is dented and Niall’s about to dig through her glovebox for her AAA card when Zayn says, “No, I got it.”

With Niall’s help they have the flat changed in twenty minutes, Zayn in flipflops lugging the spare around from the trunk and Niall flipping off each car that drives past honking at them, occasional catcalls and shouts from the drivers. “Zayn, I could kiss you,” Niall blurts when the spare is tightened on and Zayn looks taken aback, for a moment, before her lips twitch up in a hesitant smile.

“We should probably still find a mechanic, though,” Zayn says after a beat, still grinning when Niall blushes.

:::

There’s a small shop outside Amarillo, a handsome, husky man coming out to greet them and survey the damage. He lets Niall and Zayn wait in his air-conditioned office as he eases the Civic up onto a jack and disappears under the car for a while.

“What’s the damage then, doc,” Niall jokes weakly when he comes back into the office, bracing herself for the worst.

Liam frowns at them before he looks down at his clipboard. “It’ll probably be two or three days, since it’s the weekend,” he says, and Niall has to bite back a groan, “you’re lucky that you were able to change the tire when you did, though, or you’d be in worse shape than you are now.”

He looks up with sympathetic eyes but it does nothing to help, Zayn’s got her head resting on Niall’s shoulder and Niall’s chewing her thumbnail. “We can’t afford this _and_ a hotel,” Zayn mutters into Niall’s sleeve and Niall just makes a noise that somehow translates to _I know_. “We still have your bike in the trunk,” Niall jokes weakly and Zayn’s laugh quickly turns into a disgruntled groan.

“Uh,” Liam clears his throat, runs a greasy hand through his hair and leaves an oily smudge on his forehead, “y’all could stay with me, if you need. Or I could spot for a hotel room.”

Niall and Zayn exchange a look, Zayn shrugs with a look of hopelessness in her eyes, _what other choice do we have_ and Niall eyes Liam doubtfully. “You live here in Amarillo?”

Liam nods, wringing the clipboard between his hands. “Bout five miles north of the city, we’ve had some tourists stay with us before, y’all ain’t my first rodeo. It’s really no trouble.”

Liam’s ranch is massive, they’re greeted by a large paddock with five or six horses lined up at it, trotting along the fence after Liam’s truck rumbles down the dirt road. “Y’all ever ride?” Liam asks, one hand on the steering wheel as he tips his cowboy hat onto his head. Niall and Zayn shake their heads, staring at awe up ahead at the house ahead of them. Liam lets out an amused hum, brings the truck to a stop in the front yard. The house is massive, beautiful brick and wood sprawling across the field, a barn sitting a few hundred yards across the dirt road.

“If you told me a year ago I’d be roasting marshmallows on a ranch in Texas,” Zayn mutters, shaking her head and smiling as she spears another marshmallow and Liam comes back over carrying three bottles of beer. Niall grins quick up at her, nods like _I know_. Liam hands Niall his guitar and Zayn lays out of the ground on her beach towel, stares up at the sky, says something about how the stars don’t look like this in Chicago but it sounds like she was mostly saying it to herself. Niall breaks into an awful rendition of _Home on the Range_ , ends with all three of them falling over themselves laughing.

Liam’s house feels like a home, the sheets smell clean and fresh, holding the same cinnamony scent as the rest of the house. Niall sleeps for thirteen hours, wakes up to Zayn standing over her covered head to toe in dust, wearing Liam’s cowboy hat. “Liam’s _fixin’ to_ teach us how to ride,” she drawls in an awful attempt of Liam’s accent as soon as Niall’s awake, “says that if our car isn’t fixed by Monday we can just take two of his horses.”

Liam introduces them to Lucky and Leo, Lucky a dark bay mare and Leo an appaloosa stallion. “Taught my little sister to ride on these two,” Liam says with a proud smile, pats Leo on the neck. “Take your pick.”

Niall mounts Leo easily, already has the horse trotting around the paddock while Zayn struggles to get into Lucky’s saddle. Liam only makes fun of her for a few minutes, eventually helps lift her up into the stirrups and spots her until she’s centered herself in the saddle. It takes Zayn some time to get used to the horses’ movements but once she does she’s chasing Niall through the paddock, both of them rushing up on Liam where he sits on the fence watching.

“Natural born cowgirls,” he jokes, “if California doesn’t work out for you, y’all could come back here and be my ranch hands.”

Half an hour later Liam joins them on his own horse, a perlino quarter horse named Peach. He leads them out of the paddock and into the valley behind the barn, acres of open desert and as soon as they’re out of the paddock the horses buck a bit, restless and excited to be out.

“You can run ‘em, if you want,” Liam calls back from where he’s cantering with Peach up ahead, “‘s long as you don’t fall and bust your head open. Follow me.”

Niall lets Leo gallop, reins digging into her palms and Zayn lets out a high, shocked yelp when Lucky follows eagerly, the three of them cantering out towards the mountains in the distance. It’s fun, Liam showing off Peach’s jumps and rears up, but after two hours of riding, Niall decides she still prefers her Civic.

:::

That night is Zayn by the dim light of the stove, wearing a Bass Pro Shops shirt they bought back in Missouri, Niall can’t remember whose it was supposed to be in the first place. “Liam doesn’t want us smoking in the house,” she whispers when she sees Niall in the kitchen doorway, smirks and blows a lungful out of the cracked window above the sink. “But it’s too fuckin’ cold out.”

Niall grins back, presses a finger to her lips and winks as she heads to the pantry. Liam’s a bit of an organic nut, lots of jerky and dried fruit and nuts stacked into tupperware containers. Niall picks a jar of pistachios, hops up onto the counter next to Zayn as she takes another hit off her cigarette. Sleeping in the car or at motels, Zayn will leave the TV or radio on but tonight it’s completely silent, maybe the reason she can’t sleep. Just the soft cracking of Niall’s pistachio shells and an occasional horse whinny from outside. Zayn offers Niall her cigarette and she takes a hit, the butt shrinking enough that Niall’s lips brush Zayn’s fingertip when she offers it to her. Feels like the most intimate thing they’ve done the whole trip.

:::

Niall lays awake that night. She doesn’t even know Zayn’s middle name or home address but she knows that Zayn is one of the only people Niall knows who pours ketchup directly onto the fries (says it’s the equivalent of licking your food so nobody else will eat it). Has to sleep with a minimum of three pillows, never buckles her seatbelt unless Niall reminds her. Grew up in Chicago and had a boyfriend she thought she’d marry until he left for graduate school on the east coast and met someone else a month later. She’d been wanting to leave for a long time, didn’t have anything keeping her there but never had an excuse to leave until Niall asked her.

Niall doesn’t ask if Zayn likes girls. Not that it feels like it would be intrusive but just can’t find a time or place to bring it up. Zayn stayed up with Liam each night, sitting out at the campfire while it smouldered down, asked about his horses and the ranch with a genuine curiosity in her eyes. Seems like Zayn has a habit of falling a little bit in love with everyone they’ve come across so far. It’s not that it makes Niall feel less important, more just. Makes Niall wonder if that’s why Zayn said yes to coming with her in the first place.

Their car is fixed by Monday as promised, Liam giving them a lift back to the shop and Niall lets out a triumphant shout of joy when her civic rolls out of the garage. Liam gets out of the front seat, smiling wide. “Changed your oil, too,” he chirps, wiping his hands on the rag he throws over one shoulder. “It’s on me.”

Niall and Zayn don’t know how to thank him for his hospitality but Liam refuses to take money for the oil change, just asks them to get to the coast safe for him. “Would be glad to have y’all round again, if you make the trip back,” he says with a warm smile, hands Niall’s keys back to her.

Zayn steps forward, gives Liam a tentative hug and then tightens it when he hugs her back, kisses his neck and Liam pulls back blushing bright red under the brim of his hat. Niall gives him a hug, too, shakes his hand and thanks him another ten times as they load their bags back into the car.

“Tell Lucky I’ll come back and run him again sometime, yeah?” Zayn asks as she gets into the passengers seat, Liam leaning on the open window frame as Niall puts the key in the ignition. The car whirrs to life more easily than it had before and Niall and Zayn let out a relieved laugh, Liam still grinning from outside. “Take care of yourselves, y’hear?” he says, gives the hood a knock and then steps back so they can pull out. Niall and Zayn shout their thank you’s out the window the whole way down the path back to the highway.

:::

The high point of the trip is a yellow labrador in the van that passes them entering New Mexico, wearing an american flag as a cape and bright pink sunglasses. They leave a pair of Niall’s sneakers tied and tangled around telephone lines somewhere near Albuquerque.

:::

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Zayn asks from the backseat, sounds loud but maybe that’s because the radio’s off and they’re in the desert, now, no reassuring cicadas or harmonious crickets to fill up the silence.

“I guess so,” Niall answers after a while, tries to keep her voice soft. All she can see of Zayn in the backseat is her eyes, glinting in the dim light of the moon and peeking out from the Buffalo Bill blanket they bought three hundred miles ago. “There was a farm a few miles from my house, everyone thought it was haunted. It was really just a place for kids to go and drink, though.”

“Do you believe in aliens?” Zayn follows up and Niall breathes _yeah_ almost immediately this time, doesn’t offer any more explanation and Zayn doesn’t ask for one.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Niall asks a few moments later, testing the waters and Niall can hear the smile in Zayn’s voice when she replies, “tiger.”

The silence stretches on for so long that Niall thinks Zayn’s fallen asleep, and then she asks, “do you believe in God?”

Niall drums her thumbs against the steering wheel. Years of church on sunday and she’s never once prayed on her own time, something about it never quite settling with her the way it had settled with her mother and father. “Have you seen the sky tonight?” she says finally, doesn’t know if that’s a reply or a diversion.

:::

Zayn’s used up all her data watching _The X Files_ on her phone, insists that they don’t freak her out but the first hotel they stay at in New Mexico and Zayn’s fidgeting by the window that night. Niall doesn’t tease her for it, as much as she wants to, she hasn’t even watched any of the episodes but New Mexico at night is vast and kind of terrifying. Zayn shifts around too much that night, ends up leaving the bathroom light on and Niall feels her moving around the room, eventually ends up standing next to Niall’s bed. “Can I sleep here? Is that alright,” and Niall’s already half-asleep, grunts and wiggles away from the edge of the bed and hopes that Zayn will understand that it means _yes_. Less of a shock and more of a relief when Zayn burrows in next to her, turns over so their spines are the only thing touching.

:::

They get into the habit of sleeping at rest areas, big open parking lots sprawling away from a tiny, brightly-lit building in the middle of the desert. Zayn’s still asleep in the back when Niall wakes up, six hours sleeping at a truck stop just outside of Albuquerque. It’s quiet, sun just starting to come up and she gets out of the car to stretch and get breakfast, maybe pick some new cigarettes up for Zayn. Feels like that sleepy kind of coexistence that rest stops seem to consistently share, families bickering but doing so quietly, without much heart, and truckers making soft, gentle conversation with the cashiers as they stock up on coffee and nicotine gum. Niall picks up a box of donuts and a few oranges, Slim Jims, a bag of sunflower seeds and a four pack of water bottles. The cashier adds Zayn’s Marlboro’s to the purchase and Niall thanks her with a smile, heads back to the car just as the sky brightens with the sun. They’re parked all the way across the lot, next to a sandy patch of sad-looking picnic tables a ways back from the rest stop and the road. Niall’s fishing her keys out of her pocket when she pauses, sees a small, sandy body dart out from behind her car. It’s a coyote, tense and frozen when it sees Niall. Neither of them move for almost a minute, until Niall moves to take a Slim Jim out of her bag. The animal’s ears twitch but it doesn’t move, watches as Niall unwraps the stick and breaks it up into a few pieces. She walks closer to the car and the coyote retreats a bit, still watching her as Niall places the bits of Slim Jim under one of the picnic benches. She moves back to her car, leans against the hood and watches the coyote approach the bench and noses at the meat.

Niall gets into the car ten minutes later, the coyote already trotting off into the valley behind the rest area and Zayn’s stirring in the backseat, grabbing blindly for Niall’s breakfast bag. Niall doesn’t tell Zayn about the coyote. It’s the only part of the trip she keeps to herself.

:::

Niall’s still looking at the map when the car rolls to a stop, “there’s the official national park center about two miles south of here, doesn’t look like there’s any real parking lots, I guess we could walk wherever we--” and then Zayn reaches over, takes Niall’s chin in her fingers and gently lifts her head up. The Grand Canyon waits for their through her windshield, and Niall can’t breathe, for a second, almost doesn’t want to get out of the car and then she does.

Zayn grabs Niall’s hand when they get too close to the edge of the cliff, nails digging into her wrist for a moment and a cautionary, “Niall,” but Zayn’s quiet after Niall waves her off, sits down and hangs her feet over the ledge. Zayn sits down a minute later. Zayn shouts _Hello_ and they hear it bounce all the way around the canyon and then, from maybe miles away, another voice replies, _Howdy!_ Niall’s laugh echoes for a while afterwards.

They sit for an hour, Zayn putting her cowboy hat on Niall’s head so she doesn’t get sunburned and Niall scooting back from the edge just so Zayn will stop fidgeting beside her.

“Zayn,” Niall breathes, resting her head on Zayn’s shoulder and Zayn hums, reaches over and pushes Niall’s hair back from her sweaty, sunburned neck.

Wants to say _love you_ but instead, “Glad you’re here.”

Zayn pauses, exhales. “Me, too,” but somewhere in Niall’s mind it registers as _love you too_.

Niall smiles into Zayn’s shoulder, stares out to the horizon. It’s so quiet.

:::

Zayn and Niall standing on the edge of a meteor crater outside of Flagstaff. Up until then they felt like they were on top of the world but Arizona has a way of making them feel too small. It’s the only stop on the trip so far that Niall hasn’t taken a photograph at, feels like this should be something to be experienced and then left behind. Zayn reaches over at some point, intertwines her hand with Niall’s. The crater’s not exactly scary but it’s something more unsettling than the canyon was, glad that she doesn’t have to face it by herself.

:::

“What’s going to happen when we get there?” and then there’s a shift, a question that’s been held in for nearly two thousand miles and Zayn just exhaled it into the dark hotel room between them. Niall holds her breath, doesn’t move a muscle. Had foolishly hoped this conversation would never happen

“I’m not going to want to go home. Not now. I’ve got no reason to.”

Niall exhales, turns over and looks across at Zayn between their beds. “Let’s get there first, alright?”

Zayn looks like she wants to say something else but doesn’t, just whispers back _alright_ and Niall turns back over, away from her. Zayn stays up a while longer, _O Brother, Where Art Thou?_ playing on the TV and Niall falls asleep feeling like Odysseus with less purpose.

:::

“Zayn, it’s fuckin’ a hundred and two degrees outside,” Niall laughs, already slowing as they start coming up on the figure walking ahead of them, thumb sticking out into the road. Niall glances over at her, raises her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t have invited _you_ from your diner if I thought you were a murderer, or something.” Zayn’s frowning but rolls her window down anyway.

It’s a girl their age, has a thick bandana wrapped around her mess of curls and has one earbud in, grins widely when she sees Niall’s car roll up next to her. “You going west?” she asks, one eye squinted shut against the sun.

Niall looks at Zayn and Zayn rubs her face, mutters _she’s really hot_ in defeat and then waves a hand towards the car door, gesturing for Niall to unlock it. The girl taps a palm against the car and then chucks her bag in the backseat, crawls in already chanting _thank you thank you thank you_.

“I’m Harry,” she says as the car crawls back onto the highway. She meets Niall’s eyes in the rearview mirror and Niall turns down the radio, says back, “I’m Niall. This is Zayn.”

Zayn twists around in her seat, resting her chin on her headrest and studying Harry with a look. “You’re not planning to murder us, right?”

Harry’s face contorts in confusion for a moment before settling into a dimpled smile, “No, no. Trying to get to Vegas, if you’re headed that way.”

Harry’s a quiet hitchhiker, Niall almost forgets that she’s there until there’s a second voice picking up over Zayn’s humming. And in a matter of minutes it’s a full-blown duet, Zayn harmonizing to Harry’s chorus, _you can go your own way, go your own way, you can call it another lonely day_ and Niall’s laughter follows it all perfectly. “Harry,” Zayn’s laughing by the end of it, reaches over the top of her seat back to Harry, and the girl takes her hand in a firm shake, “you can stay with us as long as you’d like.”

:::

Niall asks back to Zayn during the drive up to Vegas. “If you could define someone by a moment in time.”

Zayn and Harry are already asleep, but if Zayn had been awake her answer would be this: Niall barefoot in some rest area in western Arizona. No idea where they really are, Zayn fell asleep somewhere on the drive back from the Grand Canyon, wakes up to Niall tapping on Zayn’s window and asking for her lighter. Sits on the roof of the car and wonders how she got so lucky when Niall shouts _fuck_ after stepping on a spark. They bought $100 worth of fireworks off some roadside tent just because they could, using that night’s hotel room funds for the pyrotechnics and deciding to sleep in the car instead. Harry laughing about _can’t believe you blew your room and food money on fireworks_ and Niall grinning wickedly, two sparklers in each hand. Times like these it feels like Zayn should catalog it, somehow. Harry’s bedhead tumbling down her shoulders as she rests her head in her arms through the open windows of the car, Niall the brightest spot in the parking lot though the sun is threatening to spill up over the horizon soon, almost six in the morning. Feels like this is something she should remember but doesn’t know how to capture it right, so she just lets it exist as it is.

:::

Niall shouts _go_ and the three of them are out of the car, Zayn cursing loudly as she runs barefoot around the car and dives into the drivers seat, Harry cackling madly as she takes the passengers side and Niall takes a second to flip off the drivers honking at them before she skitters around the car and gets into the back, manages to pull her door shut just as the light turns green and Zayn floors it.

:::

Niall’s parents call her while they’re getting gas, right on the border between Arizona and Nevada. She answers, this time, feels far enough away from Illinois that she can speak to them without her voice shaking.

She doesn’t tell them much but she can hear the worry in her mother’s voice and for the first time she’s homesick. Twenty three years old and misses her mom, goddamn. Doesn’t have the heart to argue when her mom asks, “Niall, can you please come home? Where are you going?”

“We’re going to California, Mom,” Niall says and her mom is silent, can tell that she’s mulling this over. “Okay. Okay, but will you come home after? We can buy you a plane ticket. Just, please come home for a bit. We miss you.”

Niall buries her face in her hands, swipes at her eyes and tries not to sniffle too hard into her phone. “Yeah,” she finally says, looks back across the parking lot where Harry and Zayn are fooling around on the pegs of Zayn’s bike. “I’ll come home. See you soon.”

:::

Harry and Zayn get tattoos just outside of Vegas, Harry’s _might as well_ scrawled out on a bar napkin and Zayn’s _don’t think I won’t_ written on the back of a receipt. The two of them are doing it because Niall didn’t believe they would, drunk in some little saloon back in Arizona. Zayn shrugging and looking at Harry, muttering “we might as well, right?” and Niall had laughed into her pint glass, “there’s no way you and our random hitchhiker are gonna get matching tattoos.”

Harry had narrowed her eyes, slung an arm around Zayn’s shoulders and pointed drunkenly over at Niall, slurred, “Don’t think we won’t do it, Niall.”

They stop at the first tattoo shop they come across in Nevada, handing over their little sayings to the artist and the only spot they both have un-inked is their hip, Harry stripping down to her underwear and Zayn gets hers a bit higher. Something in Niall’s throat that almost wants to ask if she can get one too but this seems private to Harry and Zayn, somehow. It’s only an hour later when they’re leaving, new bandages on their hips and sticking their tongues out at Niall as they pile back into the car.

Niall’s not exactly jealous, but she feels better when Zayn pulls her in for a hug instead of Harry for their photo at the Welcome To Las Vegas sign.

:::

They find a parking spot just off Fremont Street, Niall and Zayn chattering about what to do, where to get dinner but Harry’s gathering all of her things in the backseat.

“Harry?” Zayn asks with a frown and Harry smiles up at them, biggest grin they’ve seen her with.

“Could you pop the trunk, Ni?” she asks and Niall does, Harry getting out of the car and going around to the trunk to get the rest of her things.

“Are you leaving?” Zayn asks as Niall and Zayn get out with her but Harry doesn’t answer, just keeps stuffing all of belongings back in her backpack. When she stands up and faces them she’s glassy-eyed but smiling, gives them a nod and a shrug.

“You got me here, it’s all I asked for,” Harry says and her voice only trembles a little bit. She was only with them for a few hundred miles, hardly knew anything about her but she was the best company. Niall misses her already and Harry’s only standing three feet away.

“Are we going to see you again?” Zayn asks slowly and Harry stuffs her hands in her pockets and shrugs.

“Maybe I’ll try to find you in LA someday, yeah?” she asks. “Though I doubt I’ll be picked up by another pair as extraordinary as you two.”

Zayn and Harry hug for a long time, Zayn kissing her forehead roughly before they pull away and then it’s Niall’s turn, buries her face in Harry’s hair.

“You’ll love the ocean, yeah?” Harry murmurs to her and they’re both crying, now, there’s a part of Niall that wants to ask Harry to stay with them to the end but they both know convincing Harry of that is impossible. Harry steps back, salutes both of them and gives the car an affectionate pat before hitching her backpack up onto her shoulders.

“Love you guys. Thank you,” she says sincerely and Zayn wraps an arm around Niall’s shoulders, gives Harry a curt wave. Harry sets off down Fremont Street and doesn’t look back.

“Shit,” Zayn laughs softly a few moments later, after Harry’s disappeared down into the crowds. She looks over at Niall, swipes at her eyes and says, “I need a drink.”

:::

The club they end up in that night is packed, Niall and Zayn keeping close to the bar like a lifeline and getting closer to each other the drunker they get. Niall’s hand ending up on Zayn’s hip as they watch the writhing dancefloor, something that seems like it’s straight out of Hollywood, never seen anything like it.

“You want to dance?” Niall shouts cheekily into Zayn’s ear, knows that the girl only dances in the car or around their hotel room. To her surprise Zayn takes a sip of her cosmo and nods curtly, wraps her fingers around Niall’s lingering hand and drags her into the mass.

Adrenaline and alcohol outweigh the cloudy feeling of claustrophobia in Niall’s chest when Zayn tugs her into the thick of the dancefloor, starts out with a sharp grin and places her hands on Niall’s shoulders. A flood of familiarity in a sea of alien sounds, lights, bodies, and then Zayn rolls her hips in an experimental grind against Niall.

It’s not like any dancing that Niall’s ever done or seen but she rolls with it, rocks against Zayn until the other girl’s got her pulled close, thumbs hooked through the belt loops in Niall’s shorts and her head tipped down towards Niall’s, smells like hotel soap and cherries. There’s other bodies pressing and swaying around them but there’s been one that’s been consistent, hovering close by but never coming in contact with them until they’re moving to the edge of the crowd for some air.

“Can I buy you two a drink?” he asks, looks both of them evenly in the eye with a sleek smile and Niall just shrugs, waves a hand towards the bar. The three of them find their way over, order three seven & sevens and he introduces himself as Louis while they wait. He and Zayn flirt in the way that Niall was never quite able to, all coy smirks and soft scoffs. Louis is from Denver but he’s in Vegas for a friend’s wedding, out for the bachelor party. Zayn’s the one who suggests it. She reaches around and squeezes Niall’s wrist gently, gives her a side-glance as Louis takes a sip of his drink. A silent _alright?_ and Niall nods once, twice, Zayn leaning forward to say something against Louis’s neck, still holding Niall’s hand.

They end up back on the dancefloor, not so drunk anymore as Niall is restless, somehow ends up sandwiched between Louis and Zayn. Both of their mouths are on her at some point, Zayn’s lips barely missing Niall’s mouth and she can feel Louis somewhere on her neck, reaches around and rests her hand against his lower stomach. Niall’s just about to tilt her head back to catch Louis’s mouth in a kiss when another man jostles up against Zayn and the three of them detach immediately, Zayn doing her best to get away from the stranger and Louis shouts over the music, “do you want to come back to my room?”

Zayn keeps a hand loose around Niall’s wrist on the cab ride to the Mirage, Louis’s hand on Niall’s thigh and Zayn’s head on Niall’s shoulder. Zayn makes an off-handed remark about how this is the nicest hotel they’ve seen in three weeks and Louis laughs like it’s a joke, Niall tipping her head into Zayn’s collarbone and grinning.

Louis and Zayn are kissing in the elevator and Niall can’t help but stare, doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or cloudy arousal that has her noticing how soft Zayn’s mouth looks, how carefully Louis pushes her hair behind her ear. Louis pulls back when the doors ding open, the three of them going straight to Louis’s room and as soon as the door is closed Niall is tipping her head towards Zayn, the two of them still standing in the doorway while Louis clears off his suitcase from the bed.

“Can I--?” Niall asks but Zayn already moves in, presses her lips carefully to Niall’s and Niall opens her mouth to Zayn’s, hands finding their way to her hips and she walks her back towards the bed.

“Are you two together?” Louis asks when they break apart, Zayn already pulling Louis close again, pushing him gently back on the bed.

“No. But right now we are,” Zayn murmurs, straddles Louis’s lap but tilts her head so Niall can catch her in a greedy kiss again.

Louis reaches up, helps Zayn out of her shirt and lets out a breathy laugh, “could have fooled me.”

:::

There’s an argument about the minibar, middle of the night after Louis and Niall had showered and Zayn had raided the vending machine across the hall.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Louis threatens but he’s smiling already, Zayn breaks the latch on the fridge and Louis tries tugging her away but she’s pulling out the little bottle of Jose Cuervo, shouting “Shots, shots, shots, shots!” over Louis’s protests, “I can’t afford that, Zayn, _don’t_ \--” Zayn sits up, presses her hand against Louis’s mouth and climbs into his lap, waving the bottle around. “ _Body_ shots,” she amends, and Louis licks his lips.

They’re back down to their underwear, Zayn humming _shotsshots shots shotsshots_ for the last ten minutes. They’ve got Niall laid out on the room’s desk, Louis’s fingers trailing along the hem of her underwear while Zayn cuts the lime wedges (“Where the _hell_ did she get a lime?” Niall asks and Louis just shrugs, “it’s Vegas”).

“You wanna go first?” Zayn asks, holds the bottle out for Louis but he declines, waves a hand towards Niall. Zayn shrugs, saunters over and opens the bottle.

“You’re drunk,” Niall observes with a smile, the muscles in her stomach jumping when Zayn presses one of her rings against Niall’s ribs. Zayn doesn’t reply, just hands Louis a lime wedge and pours a line of tequila onto Niall’s stomach, waits until it pools around her belly button before she ducks down, licks it up and comes back for the lime wedge, takes it from Louis’s mouth.

It turns lazy after a while, Louis taking a shot out of Zayn’s collarbone and then moving back to kiss Niall, doesn’t even have a lime. Niall can feel Zayn watching them and something about that makes her kiss Louis harder, grinds down against his lap and he whines. “Not quite ready for a round two yet, babe,” and Zayn snorts a laugh at that, tugs Niall gently off of Louis and into her lap. Louis watches them kiss as he finishes off the bottle of tequila, passes out a few minutes later and Zayn and Niall aren’t far behind.

:::

Zayn and Niall leave a lipstick-stained napkin on Louis’s nightstand with their numbers on it for the hell of it and there’s nothing Niall wants more than a glass of orange juice and a shower. She gets her orange juice at a 7-Eleven on the way out of the city, has to settle for Zayn’s Victoria’s Secret body spray that’s running low as a way to freshen up.

Vegas doesn’t let them go easily, Niall’s still dumping sand out of her shoe as Zayn drives them out, the hangover tightening its grip the further the sun comes up and Niall almost tells Zayn to go back, sure that Louis would let them stay the day in the hotel room. Eventually retreats under a blanket with her phone because Zayn’s been quiet since they left the Mirage, won’t look Niall in the face. Niall doesn’t push it, doesn’t have the energy to argue or ask if it’s going to be weird now, just wants to sleep and Zayn lets her, keeps her eyes on the road and the radio low. Drives them straight through to California in silence.

:::

  
California welcomes them with an open dusk sky and Roy’s sign like a beacon in the middle of the desert, Niall’s heart in her throat when they pull in, two hundred miles between here and the end. Feels like the first time the whole trip they can take a break and breathe.

Zayn’s been wearing tacky souvenir shirts the whole trip, any she can afford, has a too-big Grand Canyon t-shirt tied up to reveal her stomach. They’re laying on the roof of Niall’s car and Niall reaches over, lays her fingers on the _don’t think I won’t_ on her hip.

“What do you think Harry’s doing right now?” she asks.

Zayn takes a long time to answer. “Probably on her way to fuckin’ Alaska or something,” she answers finally, smiling as she tucks her arms under her head and closes her eyes. “What do you think Liam is doing?”

“Saving kittens from trees or something, probably,” Niall answers and Zayn snorts a laugh, covers her face with her hands.

“Zayn,” Niall breathes after a while, sits up and looks at the barren desert around her. A laugh sneaks out of her chest, “we’re in fuckin’ California.”

Zayn just grins, pulls the brim of her hat down over her eyes but Niall can still see her smile. “I know.”

They watch the sun go down and Niall chews her statement over. Doesn’t want to ruin this but feels like Zayn has a right to know. She waits until it’s dark, just the outline of Zayn’s profile listening to her.

“I have to go home after this, Zayn,” she says it quick, flinches to herself before looking over at Zayn. She’s bouncing a flashlight on her knee, the beam stretching far down the road ahead of them. It glints off a rattlesnake a few yards away from the car.

Zayn clicks the flashlight on and off a few times and then nods slowly. “You do what you have to do, Niall.”

Zayn’s been acting weird since Vegas but Niall doesn’t ask. Zayn’s gone through a quiet phase after each person they’ve left behind, figures that she just needs time to readjust back to it being just her and Niall.

“We going straight through tomorrow, then?” Zayn asks as they get back into the car in search of one last place to stay the night. It’s only four hours to Santa Monica but this time they aren’t in a rush. They stay at the Route 66 Motel in Barstow, don’t even bother bringing their bags inside. They lay side by side in bed, scrolling through their phones and comparing camera rolls. Niall’s instagram has documented their steady travel, her photomap starting with Zayn’s diner all the way until now, a photo of the motel’s neon sign. Zayn’s only posted a handful of photos, Niall eating a Missouri peach in the passengers seat against the sunset, a picture of Lucky, Leo, and Peach, a bullet-ridden sign somewhere in New Mexico, her and Harry’s tattoos. She holds her phone above her, snaps a photo of her and Niall making a face laying on the hotel bed and captions it, _SANTA MONICA OR BUST ! ;)))_

They fall asleep curled around each other, the sheets sandy and still warm when they check out at eight the next morning. Bittersweet but can’t fucking wait to get there.

:::

They see their first palm tree the same minute they hit Los Angeles traffic and Niall cannot sit still, cranks their California playlist until her stereo buzzes with the volume of it. Zayn puts down the windows and they crawl along in traffic, Weezer’s _Beverly Hills_ and Niall’s thrashing making the car shake. Most people in the cars around them are laughing, some rolling down their windows to sing along. Zayn gets her to calm down long enough that they can figure out where they have to go once they start creeping into the city, get on 10 and it’s a straight shot to the Santa Monica pier.

Niall eats the best slice of apple pie in her life at Cora’s Coffee Shoppe, a block from the ocean but as anxious as she was an hour ago she feels like she could sit here forever, watching Zayn break off a piece of the slice’s crust.

“What’s it like, then?” Zayn asks around a mouthful of pie, smiling. Niall’s attention is out the diner windows, looking proudly at her little car that’s (badly) parked across the street. “Being a block away from the ocean.”

Niall considers it, clinks her fork against her teeth. “You know on gameshows,” she starts to smile, “when they’re like, _and behind door number one_ … and it’s _that_ close?” she licks her fork, pushes the plate away. “Feels like that. I’m not in a rush, though.”

They pay for their food and stand outside the shop and Zayn grins, offers Niall’s hand. “You wanna walk down?”

Niall takes her hand and they head to the end of the block.

:::

They get honked at crossing the busy road right before the beach but Niall can’t wait for the crosswalk, darts across the street through traffic and then her feet hit grass, then sand, kicks off her flipflops and stumbles straight down to the water and stops just before she reaches the waves. Zayn’s close behind her, tackles her into a hug and it pushes them into the surf, Niall’s shrieking with laughter. Didn’t think she would be this excited but her heart is pounding against her chest, can’t believe she’s here with Zayn, the pier just up the beach, fucking _California_.

They stand in the surf for a while until Niall’s calves have gone numb, Zayn holding her tight with no intention of letting go.

“Can we go on their pier, it’s the last stop,” Zayn finally whispers into Niall’s hair and Niall’s nodding, takes Zayn by the hand and they trek back up the beach, onto the pier.

They get a fisherman to take a photo of them at the _Route 66: End of the Trail_ sign, the only photo Zayn has them take because Niall’s too excited to worry about taking any pictures.

It feels like a dream, walking barefoot, hand in hand up the Santa Monica pier. The Route 66 Last Stop Shop is at the end of the pier, mostly fishing gear and tacky souvenirs, nothing they havent seen already over the last two thousand miles but they each buy a Route 66 trucker hat, Zayn muttering about how Niall still, inevitably, ended up sunburned.

Zayn leaves the shop and walks to the furthest railing at the end of the pier, turns to face Niall as she leans against it. Wearing her new hat backwards, an _I <3 Vegas _shirt, sand up to her knees. She holds out her arms. “Here we are.”

Niall grins, steps up next to her. “Here we are.”

Niall tips her head down and Zayn nods forward a bit, edges closer, both of them smiling. Waited two thousand, one hundred and twenty miles for this. Feels like _oh, there you are, been here the whole time_ when Niall kisses her.

They end up in a photobooth on the way back down the pier, don’t exactly know whose fault it is but they have pockets full of singles left over, Niall settling onto Zayn’s lap as she feeds the machine. Feels like there should be something to say but there’s not enough time before the first flash goes off and Niall shouts, “shit! Okay, what do we do, shit,” and they manage kissy faces for the next photo, swapping sunglasses for the third. Niall’s cackling as the timer starts for the final photo and Zayn takes her chin, kisses her though it’s more like they’re just smiling against each other’s mouths. And the flash goes off but Zayn pulls back looking at Niall, mouth tipping up to be not quite a smile yet, murmurs, “hey, do that again,” so Niall does.

Their dinner is cotton candy and nachos, waste most of their cash at the arcade and riding the ferris wheel twice. They’re stuck at the top when Zayn says it,  “I think I’m going to stay.” she frowns down at the bottom of their bench. “There’s nothing for me back in Chicago now, you know? I could start over here. There’s no excuse for me to go back there.”

Niall saw it coming but it’s still strange to hear her say it, tears her gaze away from the city and to the girl next to her. Zayn tanner, looser than the waitress at the diner a month ago, spray paint under her fingernails and living in cowboy hats and tacky tourist shirts. Feels only right that this is how they leave. Regardless, Niall thinks--knows--that she loves her.

“You can have the car,” Niall says without hesitation, waves a hand when Zayn starts to protest, “my parents can fly me home, there’s nobody I would trust with with that car more than you. You changed her flat, after all.”

Zayn opens her mouth to say something again but Niall just kisses her until the ride carries them back down to the ground.

:::

The car is a mess. Logically, Niall _knew_ it was a mess this whole trip but now, when it comes to cleaning it out, the car is a _mess_. Niall can’t quite remember which clothes are hers and which are Zayn’s anymore, the entire floor of the backseat a conglomeration of shirts, towels, plastic bags. Three bottlecaps from that craft beer from Liam in Texas, cherry pits and sunflower seeds littering the floor since Missouri. One of Harry’s braided bracelets that must have frayed and fallen off, stuck between the seats. The purple spray can from Cadillac Ranch, leaking a big spill under the passenger’s seat. Flattened pennies and museum tickets and spare batteries in the bottom of their backpacks, enough stolen hotel toiletries to last a lifetime. They sort it all out in the parking lot of a Starbucks, Niall gets all of her belongings into her two backpacks and leaves the rest to Zayn.

:::

Zayn drives Niall to LAX in her car. A small series of tacky statues on the dash from their journey, a wolf and a bald eagle and a small statue of liberty they bought in the middle of Arizona. Harry’s braided bracelet around the rearview mirror, the back bumper covered in all the stickers collected at rest stops. Niall’s never felt more attached to this car until now, but has never felt more ready to let it go.

Four hour flight back to Chicago and Niall’s not ready to leave, doesn’t know if she’ll ever be ready but she misses her parents. Kind of, in an awful way, misses the cornfields. Niall gets her bags out of the back, starts to say something, doesn’t know what, Zayn just pulls her into a hug, mutters, “Shut up,” but they’re both already crying. Zayn runs a thumb along Niall’s cheek, kisses her gently. “Travel safe, alright?”

“You too,” Niall whispers, doesn’t trust her voice to get any louder and Zayn’s face scrunches up, pokes Niall in the stomach. “I’ll see you, alright? I will.” She looks up at her with a watery grin. “Let me know if you find Harry again.”

Zayn nods, reaches up and takes Niall’s Route 66 hat and gives Niall hers. “You too. Love you.”

Niall says “love you too” as an after-thought, starts into the airport and turns back, shouts it this time down the curb at the car. Zayn honks in response, rolls away with the windows down playing _Life is a Highway_ at top volume. Niall cries all the way through security.

She flies home alone. Her and Zayn’s month of travel is shrunken down to four hours up in the air, feels sick when they fly over the Grand Canyon.  She thinks there’s still time to chicken out and turn around when the pilot is announcing their descent into Chicago, flight attendants chirpy and joyful wishing her safe travels as she gets off the plane. Almost wants to ask them _how did you let me come back here._

She pauses outside the terminal, digs through her bag for her phone and instead finds a ten dollar bill tucked into the side-pocket of her backpack. She switches on her phone as soon as she finds it, isn’t expecting any notifications but there’s already a text waiting for her, anyway, _now i’ll have an excuse to come back._

:::

**Author's Note:**

> [here](http://foxesmouth.tumblr.com/tagged/zrt) is my tumblr inspiration tag for this fic, come say howdy


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